Draco's Secret Crush
by Meritre
Summary: Even the Malfoy millions can't buy love or save Draco from humiliation...My first HP fic, so read & review, 'kay?
1. Default Chapter Title

Draco's Secret Crush

Author's Note: Hmm, my first fanfic...but feel free to flame gratuitously if you want, I won't care. Although constructive criticism and praise (!) is much more warmly accepted. Also, I don't hate Draco; in fact he's my favorite character. You only hurt the ones you love.... Then, of course, the standard disclaimer: I don't own the characters, J.K. Rowling and her publishers do.

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"--And your homework tonight is to finish the reading, pages 107 to 159, which covers the instructions on how to mix a Brewboil potion. There will be a test over the material. If you can't make the potion tomorrow--I'm talking to you, Longbottom-- twenty points from your house, not to mention an F." Professor Snape paced the room, stopping occasionally to stare down an unlucky student. He started to say something, but the class bell rang, drowning him out. As he waved the young wizards out, he snarled at the Gryffindors.

As the students all tried to cram through the small exitway at the same time, Draco Malfoy bumped into Hermione Granger. She turned around and glared at him, as if he had done it on purpose (which she thought he had). He was gesturing wildly in the air, and his mouth opened and shut as if he wanted to say something but the right words wouldn't come.

"What is it?" she snapped.

"Um...ah...Hermione, there's something I need to tell--" A few Slytherins were watching him with interest. He swiveled around suddenly, so that he was no longer facing her. "What am I doing anyway, talking to a Mudblood like you," he said loudly.

Draco turned around in time to see Hermione bite her lip and frown sadly.

"Why are you so mean to everybody?" she asked. 

He began to stammer an apology, but she turned her back on him and walked away. Then he tried to follow her. Just as he was catching up, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter appeared from out of nowhere and flanked Hermione.

"Do you want something, Malfoy?" Potter asked coolly.

"Nothing from you," replied Draco, sneering at him and Weasley. He gave Hermione a weak smile and scurried off in the direction of the Slytherin common room.  
  


* * *

  


The Slytherin common room was lit with a pale green light that glowed from the metal sconces hung on the walls. It was comforting to Draco, especially the fact that the lights were so dim. Also comforting were the high-backed chairs. If he slumped down enough, no one would know he was there. And that was how he wanted it just now.

He pulled a small photograph from his pocket and stared at it. The person in the picture smiled and waved exuberantly. Draco sighed. It was too bad that person hated him in real life. At least the picture-person didn't hate him too.

It seemed like a lot of people hated him lately. Everyone in Gryffindor, most Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, all the professors except for Snape. Of course, that made him more popular with the Slytherins, and that was what mattered...right?

Draco groaned. The girl in the picture wasn't a Slytherin, and he had an immense crush on her, and she hated him. And the Slytherins would hate him if they knew he was in love with someone from their rival house. It was quite depressing all around. He felt like pulling his hair out, but then that would mess up his nice hairstyle, and that was the last thing he wanted. So instead he slumped even lower in his chair. Rubbing against the chair's green upholstery, his hair became mussed. Fortunately, he didn't notice.

Over to his left, some fifth-years were throwing darts at a picture of Harry Potter. Twenty points for the mouth, fifty for the eyes, one hundred if it hit the lightning bolt scar. Draco knew because he had played it many times. It was a favorite Slytherin pastime. All Slytherins hated Gryffindors, Potter in particular. Normally Draco would cheer them on; today he just felt queasy.

Why did she have to be a Gryffindor, not to mention Potter's friend?

Draco clutched the picture tightly between his fingers. It was a good thing no one knew, except his two closest friends, and they would never tell--

"Hey Draco, is that a picture of the girl y' like, y'know, Hermione?"

--Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Goyle and Crabbe were standing behind him, pointing at the picture.

"Well, is it?"

The fifth-years playing "Pin the Tail on Potter" turned from their game and stared at Draco. He felt his cheeks flushing to a bright red. 

"Oh, this picture? Just going to throw it away!" stammered Draco. "Why would I want a picture of a stupid Gryffindor anyway? Really, they don't know what they're talking about...heh heh heh...isn't that funny...me liking Hermi--I mean, a riffraff Gryffindor girl...heh..."

"But you said you did--didn't he, Crabbe--yeah, you said you did."

"Shut up, you imbeciles! Why did you choose to get so talkative now?"

Everyone in the room was staring, bewildered, at a flaming-red Draco. He realized, in retrospect, that he probably shouldn't have yelled that last part.

"Nothing happening here, really...." He slapped Goyle and Crabbe on their backs with as much force as he could muster (which was enough to make them keel over with pain.) "These two are such jokers!" 

He yanked the sleeves of their robes hard and pushed them into the chairs next to his.

"Ow, Malfoy, whatcha do that for?"

Draco lowered himself slowly into the lush upholstery of his chair and stared hard at a metal sconce. Don't get mad at them, he thought. They don't know what they just did...they don't know they almost made me the laughingstock of Slytherin...Why are my friends such idiots?

He stared even harder at the green-glowing sconce. 

_Hey, that light has a metal snake wrapped around it. I never noticed that before._

Draco began to talk in a very slow voice, even slower than his usual drawl.

"When I told you about how I felt toward Hermione, I told you to keep it a secret. I told you that under the impression your intelligence levels were higher than that of a rock. However, I evidently made a mistake, because you have just proved to me that I was wrong. Keeping something a secret means _not telling a soul_. That includes yelling it out loud in front of the entire Slytherin house. Do you understand?"

Crabbe and Goyle nodded, but it was evident their minds were on other things, such as the snake wrapped around the wall lamp and an ant that was crawling across the floor. Draco sighed and stretched out his legs, "accidentally" killing the ant.

"Why doesn't Hermione like me? I'm one of the best wizards in school, I'm great at Quidditch--better than that stupid Potter, hmph, thinks he's so special-- not to mention that I'm good-looking, too." He whispered all this in a low voice, just loud enough for Crabbe and Goyle to hear.

"Maybe it's 'cause you called her a Mudblood."

"Yeah, that wasn't very nice."

Draco glared at them. 

"I really don't think you two are in any position to give me advice..." He frowned and looked down at the floor. "When I'm around her, I try to tell her how I feel, but the right words won't come...so I blurt out the first thing that enters my mind, which is usually 'Mudblood'. As a result, she hates me and everything about me.

"What I need is some way to get her attention...but what? Hmmm."

"Maybe you could try to be friends with her friends--"

"--I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Crabbe. Be friends with Harry Potter and his little fan club? _Really_... Now, who has a lot of female admirers? Ah, yes, Cedric Diggory! The girls just hang all over him. Hufflepuff has the field now, so I think I'll go out and pay him a visit, ask him for some advice, (although it's preposterous, asking a Hufflepuff for help--er, advice.) And you two, don't follow me. You've already nearly messed up enough things today."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, stood up, and walked out of the Slytherin common room. When he had left, Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, shrugged, and fell asleep.  
  


* * *

  


Pansy Parkinson watched the sleeping Crabbe and Goyle from a shadowed area under the stairwell which led to the girls' dormitories. She had heard the entire conversation.

"Draco's in love with Hermione Granger? That stuck-up little Mudblood girl?!" 

She grimaced at the very thought of Hermione and swung her fist in a rage against the stone of the staircase, immediately regretting the action as her hand began to throb with pain. 

"Ow! Draco Malfoy is my man, and no snobby Mudblood's going to take him away from me!"

She ran out of the common room and headed for the Quidditch field.  
  


* * *

  


Draco swaggered out onto the Quidditch field, where the Hufflepuff team was in training for their upcoming game against Ravenclaw. Cedric Diggory was at the far end of the field lifting weights. As Draco crossed the field, he noticed that Diggory was surrounded by a giggling group of girls. 

"Yeah," said Draco to himself, "I've chosen the right man, that's for sure."

He pushed his way through the girls to Diggory, who was flexing his muscles flirtingly. Diggory turned from his admiring crowd to Draco. "Eh, Malfoy, what do you want?" asked Diggory. "As you can see, I'm...er...a bit busy now."

"Um, yeah. I need to ask you something. Privately."

Cedric Diggory looked from Draco to the girls, then back again. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I've got something good going here, but it's not every day I'm asked for advice. Especially from a Slytherin. I guess I can help you." Diggory led Draco over to a secluded spot in the spectator stands. He turned to the following girls and waved them back, then wrapped his arm around Draco's back. "So, what is it? Need help with classes or something? Just kidding, I couldn't help you with that anyway, although if you want help with that, maybe I could get Hermione Granger to help you, she's really smart."

Draco flinched. "Well, um..."

He turned to the girls, who were pointing at Diggory and giggling.

"How do you do it? How do you get all those girls?" asked Draco.

Diggory nodded sagely. "So, it's a problem with the chickies."

"Chickies?"

"Yup. You want to know how to get a chicky. Well, you came to the right man."

Draco suddenly felt his arm being squeezed hard by Diggory. "Ow, what are you doing?"

"Oh, sorry, did I hurt you? Didn't mean to, but it just proves my point."

"And just what is that?" asked Draco crossly.

Diggory squeezed Draco's arm again. "How should I say this.... I mean, it's good to be small when you're a Seeker--after all, I should know, I am a Seeker (although I'm not small)--but your problem is that you need to bulk up."

"What do you mean, bulk up?"

"You're kind of scrawny. Nothing wrong with that, but if you want to get the chickies you have to be muscular." Diggory flexed his muscles proudly. "Like me."

"Are you calling me SCRAWNY?"

"Don't get so defensive. Just look." Diggory waved his arm out toward the girls.

"So, you're saying," said Draco slowly, "if I want Hermi--I mean, a girl--"

"Chicky."

"--a chicky to like me, I should work out or something?"

Diggory nodded. "Trust me, you'll see a difference. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to...er..._practice_."

Draco stared, bewildered, at the retreating Diggory.

"Remember what I said, Malfoy!" he shouted with a wink as the girls surrounded him again.

Draco sighed and walked off the field. He was hoping for something a little easier, something that didn't require physical labor (which was one of his least favorite things). But if that was what it would take to win the fair Hermione's heart....

As Draco left the field and entered Hogwarts, he didn't notice two beady eyes staring at him from behind a statue of Uric the Oddball. They belonged to Pansy Parkinson.  
  


* * *

  


"Hey, Ron, Harry, do you want to eat outside today?"

"Sure, why not?"

Ron, Harry and Hermione walked out of the dim hallway and into the blinding sunlight of the outdoors. It was a beautiful day, and so many other students had also decided to have lunch outside.

"Let's go over here," called Ron, who was running at full speed in the direction of a drooping willow tree by the lake. Harry and Hermione followed close behind. When they reached the tree, Ron collapsed melodramatically onto the grass.

"Are you okay, Ron?" asked a concerned Hermione.

"No, not as long as I have to take Potions with Snape and the Slytherins!" he yelled. "Make one little mistake on a potion and they're all over you! Twenty points from Gryffindor for just forgetting the frog spleen! It's ridiculous! It's unfair!"

"Don't feel so bad," comforted Harry, "I messed it up too."

"With all the people that made mistakes, that's...that's ONE HUNDRED POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR! Arrgh!" raved Ron. "Plus the fifty points Malfoy got from Snape for being a teacher's pet--"

"Calm down, Ron, we'll make up the points in our game against Slytherin."

"I can't stand Malfoy! And the way Snape treats him! 'Oh, class, look at the _wonderful_ way Malfoy chopped up his monksbane roots! Oh, look at the _marvelous_ way Malfoy crushed his snake fangs! Oh, what a _fabulous_ student you are, Draco Malfoy!'" Ron had to take a deep breath after saying all that.

Harry turned from the panting Ron to Hermione.

"Have you noticed Malfoy's been acting a bit strange lately?"

"Stranger than usual?" muttered Ron.

"Yes, it's odd. I felt like he was staring at me all day," said Hermione.

"I noticed that too. And he's been running away from us whenever you're around, instead of staying around to bother us. I wonder what the matter is..."

Harry scanned the area for any sign of Malfoy.

"Is that him, over there by the lake's edge?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, what's he doing? Looks like he's...Ron, come over here and look."

Ron pulled himself up from the grass and sauntered over to Harry and Hermione. He peered over at the blonde-haired figure his friends were looking at. "Is he actually working out? I figured Crabbe and Goyle did that for him," said Ron.

"C'mon, let's get a closer look," called Harry.

The trio moved stealthily across the lawn to where Malfoy was lifting weights. As they neared, Malfoy picked out a particularly heavy barbell and tried to lift it, failing spectacularly as it fell back onto his chest.

Ron snorted and started to laugh, but Hermione covered his mouth.

"Do you want him to see us?" she asked.

Ron shook his head, which was turning red with holding in the laughter.

Meanwhile, Malfoy was trying to lift the weights off his chest, his cheeks flushing pink with the effort. He yelled at Crabbe and Goyle and they scurried over to lift the barbell.

Harry chuckled silently, but Ron was about to burst with laughter.

"Ron, don't, I don't think--"

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Malfoy turned toward the sound of the laughter. "Who's there?"

Ron was rolling on the grass, choked with a giggling fit.

"Oh," said Malfoy. "It's the weasel and his friend the scarface...oh, hi Hermione."

"What's your problem?" asked a scowling Harry.

Malfoy nodded his head toward Ron. "I think _he_ has the problem."

"Ha...ha...ha," gasped Ron. "Need them...to lift it...for you...guess money can't buy everything...hahaha."

"Money--an area you have little expertise in, Weasley, seeing as you have none," retorted Malfoy. "Anyway, I can easily lift that barbell. I was simply startled...." He turned to Hermione. "...by you."

"Sure you can lift it? I think not," snarled Ron.

"Hand me that barbell," said Malfoy to Crabbe. 

Malfoy then turned to Hermione and smiled. "So...um...ah...Hermione, how are you doing today?"

Crabbe was starting to pick up the barbell when he was confronted by Pansy Parkinson. She pulled him out of Malfoy's sight, who wouldn't notice anyway because he was bragging to Hermione.

"What?" barked Crabbe.

"Let me see that barbell," replied Pansy.

"For what?"

"I'm just going to charm it, make it a little lighter so Draco can impress Hermione."

"How'd you know he likes her?"

"Don't worry about it." Pansy kneeled down to the barbell and tapped it with her wand, muttering the words to the Backbreaking Charm under her breath, so Crabbe wouldn't notice. Fortunately, Crabbe wouldn't have known it from the Featherweight Charm even if he had heard it. She then left Crabbe to watch the scene from a more secluded area. "Heh heh heh. Now Hermione will think he's a wimp because he can't lift it. And then I'll be there to comfort my dearest Drakie-Wakie," whispered Pansy to herself.

Crabbe tried to lift the barbell but failed. Then he attempted to roll it but could barely do that. "Oy, Goyle, get over here!" he called. The thought never occurred to him that perhaps Pansy had made it heavier instead of lighter. Crabbe didn't think often; that's why he made a good cronie. 

Goyle ran over and heaved the barbell up. Even together, it was amazingly hard for them to lift it. But they did, setting it on the weight rack above Malfoy's chest.

"Oh, you finally got it. Good, just put it there. Now leave, Crabbe and Goyle. I'll be fine without you watching me."

Crabbe and Goyle shrugged and left for the comfort of the common room.

"Are you sure you can lift that? It looks awfully heavy," said Hermione worriedly.

Ron smirked. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'm sure big, buff Draco can handle it."

Malfoy wrapped his hands around the barbell, gripping hard. He took a deep breath, and, with all his strength (fueled by the desire to impress Hermione) he lifted it off the rack. For a moment he held it up triumphantly, watching Hermione's surprise and Ron's indignant fury. Then the barbell slipped from his hands and crashed onto his chest with a loud thump. He gasped once and went unconscious.

Pansy shrieked and ran toward Malfoy. She had neglected to remember that an extremely heavy barbell falling onto his chest would hurt him. (Slytherins aren't the brightest bunch.) Hermione wasn't reacting the way Pansy had expected: instead of laughing merrily, she had dashed over to poor Malfoy and attempted to lift the barbell off his chest.

"He's not breathing," she shouted. "Ron, Harry, help me pull this off!"

"As much as it hurts to do this, I guess we shouldn't let him die," said Ron, sighing. Along with Harry, he ran over to Hermione. Together, they were able to just barely budge the barbell off Malfoy. Pansy pushed her way past them and kneeled down next to Malfoy.

"This man needs CPR!" she shouted. "Out of my way!" She leaned over and pressed her mouth against Malfoy's.

"...Um. Pansy. You need to take your mouth off his at some point and press his stomach. He needs to exhale."

"Also, I don't think the tongue was necessary."

"What would _you_ know, Granger?" asked an indignant Pansy.

"Well, I am certified in CPR...."

Pansy sneered and blew Hermione a raspberry. "I know what I'm doing. Just leave us alone."

"Fine. I'll go get Madam Pomfrey," said Hermione. She ran off to the hospital wing, with Ron and Harry lagging behind her.  
  


* * *

  


Draco suddenly regained consciousness, but he kept his eyes shut. His chest felt like it was going to explode with all the pain...but it was worth it-- he had started a conversation with Hermione and not called her a Mudblood! He figured that the pain of lifting weights must focus his mind or something. 

Then Draco realized something was on his lips--almost as if--could it be--Hermione was kissing him? He stretched his arms out, then casually wrapped them around what he hoped was Hermione's back. Draco opened his eyes and looked into the face of--

"Hi, Drakie-Wakie, are you alright now?" purred Pansy.

"AAAACCCCKKKK!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! EW, EW, EW, EW, EW!"

"You're just a little groggy right now, so I understand you're surprised. But when you're totally awake, then you'll realize I'm the right one for you." 

Draco backed away slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about...or what you're doing...Wait! This...this must be a dream! Yes, I'm dreaming! And now...I need...to leave." He sprinted to the Slytherin House, descended the stairs into his dormitory, leaped onto his bed, and fell asleep immediately.  
  


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Yes, there is a second part...


	2. Default Chapter Title

I don't own any of the characters in the Harry Potter books; that honor belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.

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Draco's Secret Crush, part two

Draco woke from his sleep drenched in a cold sweat. He had dreamt that he was being kissed by the giant squid that lived in the lake. It was remarkably the same as when Pansy had kissed him. He rubbed his hand vehemently across his mouth to get rid of the slimy feeling, but it wouldn't leave. 

"Well, scratch the 'getting buff' advice from Diggory," he said to himself. "That's what happens when you get advice from a Hufflepuff--chaos. I should have known better. This time I'll figure out what to do myself. Let's see...it has to be pain-free...easy...quick and foolproof. Hmm."

Suddenly the idea came to him. "Yes! A love potion! I am a genius....Except, I don't know how to make one. Maybe if I ask Snape, but I'll have to say it's for someone else--for Crabbe. Perfect. He's not smart enough to make one and there's no way he'd get a date any other way."

Draco pulled the picture of Hermione from his pocket and kissed it. "Soon, you will be mine, darling," he said in a rare show of sappiness.  
  


* * *

  


Professor Severus Snape was in a foul mood. His last class had been disastrous, peaking when Ron Weasley had forgotten to add his frog spleen to his Brewboil potion, which caused the potion to explode, splattering orange liquid all over the walls. Filch had just finished mopping it up, cursing horribly the entire time. The walls still had a faint orange tint. Snape was wondering why all his pupils were complete and utter dunderheads (especially the Gryffindors) when there was a knock on the door.

"Longbottom, if it's you, I told you never to come near me again," bellowed Snape. "Isn't it enough that you torture me every day with your abysmally ignorant self? Must you pester me even on my single break?"

There was an awkward pause. "No, it's Draco Malfoy."

"Oh. In that case, come in. But make it brief. I have a class in fifteen minutes."

Malfoy walked in slowly, watching the scowl on Snape's face. "Is this a good time? I just needed instructions on making a certain potion."

"And what potion could that be?"

"Well, my friend Crabbe--"

"A love potion?" snapped Snape.

Malfoy looked relieved. "Yes. Can you show me how to brew one?"

Snape scowled even more. "I can...the question is, do I want to," he muttered. Whenever a request for a potion began with "Well, a friend of mine," he knew it was for a love potion. No one ever wanted to make anything interesting, like a Polyjuice Potion. It was always the love potion. He would die from shock if someone wanted to know how to make anything but a love potion. Personally, he had never been interested in silly things like love potions. That's what got him where he was...a school where he taught dunderheads all day long. He sighed sorrowfully.

"If you must have this...potion, if you want to dignify it with such a name--"

"It's not for me, it's for Crabbe."

"I'm sure. Fine, I will make it. Just don't tell anyone; I don't want a horde of lovesick children begging me for the potion. I have enough troubles already."

Malfoy nodded and sat down. "Will it take long?"

"No, you'll still have time to give it to your little girlfriend today."

"I told you, it's not for me--"

Snape silenced him with a wave of his hand. He rummaged around in his cupboards until he found what he was looking for. "Let's see, rose hips, rosemary, rose oil...." Disdainfully, he threw the first ingredients into his cauldron. "Lavender, cherry blossoms, forget-me-nots, sugar...what a horrid mixture."

The Potions dungeon was filled with the scent of roses. Snape kept wrinkling up his nose, especially when the potion turned a lurid pink color. _I'm glad I never felt the need to brew up one of these potions for myself,_ he thought. _It just gets more revolting every time I make it._

"It's done," announced Snape finally. "All it needs is a hair from your head, and then you give it to the person you...ahem...love."

"It's not for--oh, well, thank you," mumbled Malfoy, snatching the potion from Snape's hands. "I think I'll be leaving now." He ran off down the corridor toward the Slytherin House.

Snape watched Malfoy leave. He shook his head sadly. "Such a promising future I thought he had. Why must they all be ruined by love potions?"  
  


* * *

  


Draco yanked a hair from his nicely gelled hairstyle and placed it in the potion. The potion turned the color of his hair, silvery-blond. He placed it under his bed. "There, it should be safe until Care of Magical Creatures." That was his next class with Hermione. "It should be easy enough to get her to drink it. I'll just pour it in her glass of water or something."

He left his dormitory and scaled the steps up to the common room. As he did so, he didn't notice a shadowy figure going down the steps to the boys' dorms. Even if he had seen, he wouldn't have cared: there were many shady Slytherins; this one was no different. However, he would have been alarmed if he had known it was a girl. He would have been even more alarmed if he had known it was none other than Pansy Parkinson.

"Draco looks like he's up to something," muttered Pansy to herself. "It probably has something to do with that know-it-all Mudblood Granger...I'd better check it out."

She opened the door to the dorms slowly, peered in, then strolled inside. The room was deserted except for herself. "Good, I'll just have myself a little peek in Draco's things and...under his bed!" Pansy ducked down and checked it out. "Hmm. What could this be..." She took a whiff of the potion. "Smells like roses--it must be a love potion! Arrghh! He was going to give it to Hermione! Well, I'll just take care of that!

Pansy sped out of the dorms and out of the Slytherin house into the main hallway. She opened a window and dumped the potion onto the ground below. "Good, now he can still fall in love with me," she said dreamily.  
  


* * *

  


Hagrid and his enormous black boarhound Fang were out for a little stroll around the grounds when Fang stopped trotting suddenly and began smelling the ground.

"Eh, Fang, what is it?" said Hagrid, in a honey-sweet voice he reserved only for his pets. "Yeh smell somethin' funny?" Hagrid looked down to see that Fang was sniffing, and now lapping up, a silvery-blond colored puddle.

"I dunno, that looks like bad stuff--a potion or somethin'. Yeh'd better not drink that," said Hagrid worriedly. Fang stopped, but he had already lapped it all up. "Ah, well, I'm sure they wouldn' have thrown it out if it'd bin anythin' dangerous. C'mon, Fang. We've gotta get ready fer class."  
  


* * *

  


Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco were walking out to Care of Magical Creatures, along with the rest of their Slytherin classmates. Draco was straggling behind the others, raving furiously to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I know you must have done something with it--"

"But we didn't even know 'bout the love potion!"

Draco scowled and said, "Don't say it so loudly! Really, one would think you would know some things without having to be told....Anyway, if you didn't take it, who did?"

"Why does it matter so much?"

"Do you not realize that whoever drinks it will fall madly in love with me? That matters very much! What if Millicent Bulstrode drank it?" Draco shuddered violently. His mind conjured up an image of the bull-like Millicent beating up the lovely Hermione at his first Dueling Club practice. "Oh, God, I hope she didn't drink it...."

Draco's frantic thoughts were interrupted by a loud, booming voice. He looked up to see "Professor" Hagrid and his massive dog Fang striding across the lawn to where the students had gathered.

"Everyone 'ere? Good, t'day we're learnin' about--eh?"

Hagrid looked down to Fang, who was pulling violently on his leash. He usually kept Fang on a leash during class, ever since that incident with Buckbeak attacking Draco, but today he could barely keep him reined in. _What's the use, he'd never hurt a fly_, thought Hagrid, and removed the leash.

Fang immediately went off on a dash toward Draco, jumping in the air and landing on Draco's chest (which was still sore from the weight-lifting episode). Draco felt a large and very slimy tongue caress his face lovingly. "AH! What are you doing--no, you're messing up my hair, not my hair--get off me, you mangy, flea-bitten, parasite-riddled mutt!" He tried to push the dog off him, but it was no use. Fang growled in an affectionate sort of way and continued licking Draco.

Even worse than being attacked by a colossus of a dog--even worse than having his hair messed up--was the laughter coming from all the non-Slytherins. Ron Weasley was rolling on the ground, howling with laughter. Harry Potter was going hoarse with loud snickers. Hermione--why?--was covering her mouth but shaking with laughter. The Slytherins, on the other hand, were shouting out fighting tips to Draco.

"Come on, punch that filthy thing's lights out!"

"Hit it in the stomach!"

Hagrid was looking serious but chuckling occasionally. "C'mon now, Fang, get offa him, we gotta start class," he called, but it didn't seem to do any good. "Don' know what's gotten into 'im, really."

Draco screamed, "Hagrid, call your dog off! I--CAN'T--STAND--DOGS!"

Hagrid looked to Harry and Ron, who gave him the thumbs down. "You mus' be really nice fer Fang t'like you that much," he said happily to Draco. "You musta' changed since that thing wit' Bucky."

Crabbe and Goyle were now trying to pull Fang off, but he lashed out at them whenever they got near.

Pansy, who had rearranged her schedule so every class of hers was with Draco, stared at her "Drakie-Wakie" pinned underneath Fang. "It's almost like it loves him...but Draco doesn't like animals..." Suddenly she remembered pouring out the love potion and realized what had happened. "Oh, no...oops."

Draco struggled under Fang, his eyes clouded with drool and dog fur. He had always hated dogs. They were so touchy-feely, and Draco didn't like being touched, especially by mammoth canines. He felt like he was going to faint again. _Oh, no,_ he thought desperately, _not again, not in front of Potter and Weasley_...Stars danced in his eyes, and he conked out.  
  


* * *

  


Draco combed his hair for what must have been the hundredth time, trying to make sure all the dog slime was out. He hoped that he would never see another dog for the rest of his life. Swearing that he would have Hagrid in Azkaban for this, he peered carefully out of his dorm, checking out the common room. _Good._ No one was there.

The taunts had been terrible, even from his fellow Slytherins. While he was in the hospital wing, groups and groups of students from all the houses came in to mock him. Weasley had stayed by his bed the entire time (under the pretense of "helping my friend Draco through this...er...heh...troubled time") to make fun of him. It was horrible. He would get Dumbledore to cancel his Care of Magical Creatures classes if it was the last thing he did.

Draco walked through the common room and out into the main hallway. He pulled the hood of his green Quidditch cloak over his entire head except for his eyes. Unfortunately, it didn't help much.

"Hey, Malfoy, can't even beat a puppy?"

"Ooo, the great Malfoy, flattened by a dog!"

He scurried through the halls and arrived out at the Quidditch field. It was practice, but no one else was there yet except for Marcus Flint. Draco sat down in the bleachers and wallowed in self-pity. 

What did Hermione think of him now? She'd given him what looked like a pitying smile in the hospital wing, but it could have been a smirk. Or maybe it was the medicine talking. Why were the Fates against him? Why did every attempt to win Hermione's love result in humiliation?

"Hey, Flint," called Draco, "how do you impress a girl without embarrassing yourself?"

Marcus was stuffing himself with chocolate. He gave Draco what looked like a thoughtful expression, then burped loudly. Then he reverted back to his normal, clueless look. "I dunno," he said. "Maybe you could try to give her candy or something." He looked down at his Chocolate Frogs. "Maybe chocolate. That impresses me."

Draco thought about that for a moment, then smiled. "Flint, you're brilliant!"

"I--burp--am?"

"Yes! What harm could there possibly be in chocolate? She'll like it--and me--and nothing bad could possibly happen! Ha ha ha! I'm going to order some now!"

Draco jumped up and ran out of the stadium, through the corridors, into the Slytherin house, and down into his dorm room. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write.

"Hmm. Deluxe order of Chocolate Frogs--size, extra large--delivered to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, attn. Draco Malfoy, Slytherin House--overnight delivery--charge to Lucius Malfoy."

He rolled up the parchment and rubber-banded it to his owl's leg. "Okay, Cerberus, get back the delivery quickly. And fly fast, or I'll have to get another owl."  
  


* * *

  


Hermione Granger walked into lunch followed by her friends Ron and Harry. She rolled her eyes as they started up on their new favorite topic: Draco Malfoy.

"Yeah, what an idiot, I can't believe he didn't call his daddy already and complain about Hagrid."

"Fang would never hurt him, I don't know why he made such a big deal out of it."

Hermione turned to the gabbing Ron and Harry. "I'm sure if I were pounced on by Fang, I wouldn't like it either. Neither would you, I'm sure. He's quite a big dog."

Ron groaned. "Here we go again, defending Malfoy, even though he's an IDIOT and a CHEAT, he's still not all bad, it's just his family, and blah blah blah and whatever."

"I'm not defending him, I'm just saying it wouldn't be very pleasant to be jumped on by a dog nearly Hagrid's size."

"Trust me, Hermione, Malfoy doesn't have an ounce of good in him--what do YOU want?"

Draco stood in front of the trio, smiling at Hermione. He was holding something behind his back. "Hi, Hermione," he stammered.

"Um...hi, Draco."

Ron covered his eyes and muttered to himself. Harry watched, interested.

"It's nice to see you today, Hermione," said Draco.

"Um, we see each other every day."

"Well, it's still nice to see you."

"Um...It's nice to see you too, Draco."

"I bought you something." Draco pulled out from behind his back, with a flourish, the largest box of Chocolate Frogs Hermione had ever seen, anywhere. "Do you like Chocolate Frogs?"

"Oh, wow...Oh my gosh, Draco, really, you shouldn't have...Wow, this is huge! I've never even seen a box this big at Honeydukes. Yes, I love Chocolate Frogs! They're my favorite! Thank you so much!" She started to hug Draco with the box in her hands, stopped, set the box down, and hugged him. Draco mumbled something, blushing bright red. Hermione glared behind him at a peeking Ron.

Hermione stepped back from Draco and opened the box of Chocolate Frogs. Inside were fifty perfect frogs, along with fifty cards. "Harry, do you want the cards? I don't collect them. Hey, Ron, this looks like Agrippa, don't you need him?" 

"I'd rather not have it, thanks," said Ron, frowning at Draco. He stepped forward, yanked the box out of Hermione's hands, and set it aside.

"What are you doing, that's not yours to touch!" exclaimed Draco.

Ron pointed a long finger at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Out of the blue, you give Hermione a box of chocolates? Something's not right!"

"Just because I gave a box of chocolates to her and not you doesn't mean--"

"Like I would even want chocolates the Malfoy stench has been on?"

"What did you say?!"

"You heard me."

"Come on, don't fight, you two, it's all right, Ron, you can have some frogs too--"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT THE FROGS!"

With Ron attacking Draco, Draco attacking Ron, Harry trying to defend Ron and Hermione trying to make peace, the Chocolate Frogs were forgotten. Pansy took this opportunity to make more trouble for Hermione.

"I can't believe Draco gave her Chocolate Frogs...he never gave me Chocolate Frogs...It's not fair! I'll get Hermione--I'll make her so sick she'll be in the hospital wing for weeks!" She pulled out her wand and put a Stomach-Spinning charm on the chocolates. "He won't want to date a girl who's vomiting all over him...Hahahahahaha!"

Back to Draco, Ron, Hermione and Harry, Ron was now poking Draco in the chest in a threatening sort of way.

"Look, Weasley, I really don't want a fight--"

"Oh, a wimp, are you?" Ron poked Draco again. "Now, why would you give Hermione chocolates? You're not friends with her. You're not her boyfriend," he said in a dangerous voice.

Draco and Hermione blushed furiously.

"In fact, it would seem that you don't even like her."

"That is not true at all--"

"Then why do you call her a Mudblood?"

Draco didn't respond, he just looked down at the floor.

"So, why did you give her those Chocolate Frogs? Obviously it wasn't to be nice."

"Are you saying that Draco did something to the frogs?" asked Harry.

"YES! He did something to the frogs! He poisoned them or cursed them or put REAL frog spawn in them! Whatever you do, Hermione, don't eat them!" shouted Ron.

Hermione frowned. "I don't think he did that. I mean..."

"He's a MALFOY. Malfoys don't do nice stuff like that for no reason," said Ron, in the tone of someone explaining that one and one made two. 

"Are you saying that I would poison Hermione?" asked Draco, his smooth voice edged with fury.

"There's only one way to find out if you did or not," said Ron, smirking. "Eat one. If they're poisoned, well, we'll all know. If they're not, then maybe you're not such a jerk after all. But I'm not ready to believe that yet."

Draco reached out a hand toward the box, then stopped. "Do you mind, Hermione? They are yours," he said, shooting an icy glare to Ron, "are they not."

"No, I don't mind, have one."

"Thank you." Draco chose a frog and popped it in his mouth. "See, it's perfectly fine--ulp! What is this? Ohhhhh...my stomach..."

Ron turned to Hermione, pointing his thumb to a doubled-over Draco. "See? Look at what would've happened to you!"

"Oww, I think I'm going to--" Draco clutched his stomach and ran from the room. He didn't make it past the door before he vomited. Then he swayed and fainted on the spot.  
  


* * *

  


Draco woke up to a throbbing pain that covered his entire body. He winced and groaned. Had he fainted again? The memory of lunch, Hermione, and the tainted chocolates came back to him. _Great,_ he thought. _Now Hermione thinks I'm trying to kill her. Why did I have to get the poisoned box? When I get out of the hospital wing_--for that's where he was--_I'm going to write a very rude letter to those Chocolate Frog manufacturers._

He rolled over and heard voices coming from next to him.

"Is he waking up?"

"I don't think so. Serves him right, doing that to Hermione. What did she ever do to him? I mean, I could understand if he wanted to poison us--but why Hermione?"

"I have no idea."

"It must be a Slytherin thing."

Draco opened his groggy eyes enough to see a tall redheaded boy and another boy with messy black hair next to him.

"Weasley and Potter. Just the people I want to see when I'm barely conscious."

Ron scowled. "Like we really want to see you. We came to give you back your wonderful Chocolate Frogs."

"And to ask you," said Harry, "why you tried to poison Hermione."

Draco gave them a horrendously dirty look. "Do you think I'd be so stupid as to eat a Chocolate Frog I knew was poisoned?"

"We don't understand the way your twisted mind works," said Ron, shrugging.

"Look, obviously I didn't poison them, because then I wouldn't have eaten one. They must have been poisoned at the factory."

Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. They both looked at Draco.

"Then why did you give her the Chocolate Frogs?" they said in unison.

"Why should I tell you?" he asked crossly. 

"I'm sure Dumbledore and McGonagall would be interested in hearing that you tried to poison a student," said Ron slyly. "Might not be a good idea, if you know what I mean...."

Blackmailers! The last thing he wanted was to have McGonagall on his back. He tried quickly to think of a plausible lie but couldn't come up with one. "Eh...mumble...um...heh...hmm..."

"Speak up, I can't hear you."

"I--I'm in l-l-love with Hermione," admitted Draco with a sigh.

Ron frowned. He walked up very close to Draco's bed, kneeled down so they were at an equal eye level, leaned in toward Draco's ear, and shouted "DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT?! WHY DO YOU CALL HER A MUDBLOOD?!"

Draco covered his ears. "WAS IT NECESSARY TO SHOUT?!"

"YES!"

Draco turned his head away. "When I am around her...sometimes I choke up...especially when you're not with her, because then I don't have something else to focus on...so I just open my mouth and try to say something nice...but it doesn't work."

Harry nodded. "I think I understand. That's the way I am around Cho...I don't know what to say, so I just open my mouth and something stupid comes out." 

"And that's how I am around Lavender, but I don't call her a Mudblood!"

"Well, I suppose it's not really in Draco's nature to be nice. I mean--"

"--he is a Malfoy," finished Ron. "And a Slytherin. But still, calling her a 'filthy Mudblood'?"

"Father expects me to be a proper Malfoy, you know, insult all the people from Muggle families and such," said Draco despairingly. "I don't want people thinking I'm a disgrace to the family. If there are other Slytherins around, or people Father knows, I can't be friendly to Mudbloods--I mean, Muggle-borns."

Ron scoffed loudly. "You're worthless! I can't believe that you would call Hermione a Mudblood just because dear old Dad told you to!"

"It must hurt," said Harry wisely, "calling her a Mudblood, if it's true that you like her. I have a hard time believing that you do."

"You don't know what it's like, living with my father! He's horrible! He said if he finds out that I've been associating with Mudbloods I'll be disowned! There goes my inheritance, out the window!" raved Draco.

"D'you really think he'd do that?" asked Ron.

"I don't know. Probably not, he doesn't have any other heirs," shrugged Draco.

"Well, what's the problem? You've got to be your own person," said Harry.

"I suppose you are right."

"Hermione thought you weren't such a bad sort, that it was your dad making you act like such a jerk," admitted Ron.

"Really? Does she not hate me?"

"I don't think so. When you were hauled off to the hospital wing, she couldn't understand why you would poison her gift. She thought there must have been a mistake or something. I thought she was just being naive."

"Wow."

"Tell you what, there's a dance in the Great Hall the day after tomorrow, around nine o' clock. Hermione loves to dance. Maybe if you apologize--act really nice--not call her a Mudblood!--buy her some flowers--she'll dance with you. Don't get your hopes up, but it's worth a try. And don't think we're buddies now or something, 'cause we're not. I'm only telling you this because Hermione likes you."

"All right, I'll do that."

"Not so fast. You have to promise Harry and me something first."

"What?"

"That you'll never call Hermione a Mudblood again."

Draco thought about it for a split second. "Fine."

"Good. Now, her favorite dance is--"

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey came in, shaking a thermometer in a threatening sort of way at Ron and Harry. "Why are you bothering my patient? Get out of here, go on! Scoundrels! Hooligans! Riffraff!"  
  


* * *

  


Draco was back in front of the mirror, combing his hair over and over again. Crabbe and Goyle had been called in to give advice, but they weren't much help.

"Does it look better slicked back...or spiked up?"

"Umm..."

"I dunno."

"How about...parted on the side?"

"Umm..."

"I dunno."

"Maybe if I put more hairspray on...does that look better?"

"Umm..."

"I dunno."

Draco dropped his hands from his head and sighed. "Why don't I just put it in a mohawk?"

"Umm..."

"I dunno."

"I see hair isn't exactly your area of expertise. Oh, well." Draco smoothed his hair down, spiked it up, smoothed it down, then spiked it up again. "I guess it doesn't matter." He looked once more in the mirror, dusted off his tuxedo (black, of course), and left the bathroom, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Those are real pretty flowers," said Crabbe as Draco plucked an arrangement of roses from the vase he'd recieved them in earlier in the day.

"Yes, they are, are they not? I hope Hermione likes them." Draco, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, walked out of their common room, through the corridors, and into the Great Hall, which was decorated to look like the starry night sky the ceiling reflected. There Crabbe and Goyle left him for the snack bar, leaving him all alone. Draco was looking around for Hermione when he was approached by Ron and Harry, also in tuxedos.

"Hey, Malfoy, have you found Hermione yet?" asked Ron.

"No, have you seen her?"

"Nope. She's probably still getting ready. You know how girls are."

"Not really."

Harry waved to someone across the room. "That's Cho. I'm going to go say hello. See you later." He ran off to where Cho was standing.

Ron sighed. "Where is Lavender? I told her to meet me here--Oh, L-Lavender! You're here! Have you seen Hermione?"

"No, I don't know where she is," said Lavender, shrugging.

"Eh, she'll be here eventually. Don't worry," said Ron, as he was pulled off to the dance floor by Lavender.

Draco sighed and leaned back against the stone wall, watching his classmates waltz to the sound of Dumbledore's violin playing and kazoo tooting. Had Hermione stood him up? It would have served him right, after calling her a Mudblood. Even Goyle was dancing, with Millicent Bulstrode. He felt very depressed.

The door behind him opened softly, letting in light from the hallway. Draco didn't turn around until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see Hermione's face smiling up at him.

"Oh, um, hi Hermione--these are for you," stuttered Draco, almost shoving the flowers at her.

"Thanks," she said happily. "These are really nice. I'm glad you're here--everyone thought you wouldn't show, except for Ron and Harry. But I knew you would. Anyway," and she set the flowers down, "let's dance!"  
  


* * *

  


Pansy watched Draco and Hermione waltz across the dance floor. It was sickening to her, the way Hermione was hanging all over Draco. "What a flirt," she said unhappily. "And even after the poisoned chocolates, she still manages to get him. Why is life so unfair?!" She turned to Crabbe, who was leaning against the wall, half-asleep. "What are the words to the Body-Binding Curse? I don't remember."

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Just tell me!"

"Well...is it Petrificus Totalus? No...Petrificus Hubris? No--it's Petrificus Selfius."

She pointed her wand at Hermione. "Okay then, Petrificus Selfius!" 

Pansy suddenly felt her entire body go rigid. She swayed, then fell over on the hard stone floor, paralyzed.

"Guess that wasn't the spell," said Crabbe nonchalantly.  
  


* * *

  


After the first song ended, Hermione and Draco sat down together.

"You're a good dancer," said Hermione admiringly.

Draco laughed. "I was stepping on your feet the entire time!"

"Really, you are," said Hermione, covering her bruised foot with the other, still-intact one.

Draco took a sip of his pumpkin juice, trying to think of something to say. "Um...you look nice tonight, Hermione."

"Thank you, that's kind of you to say. You look nice too."

Draco took another sip, then said, "But you look nice all the time." The pumpkin juice was making him sappy. Or maybe it was just Hermione. Either way, it was good.

Hermione blushed and started gulping down her pumpkin juice. When the cup was empty, she looked down into it, as if trying to find something, then looked up at Draco.

"Hmm?"

"I'd like to ask you something," she started. "Well, I know you and Harry and Ron aren't exactly the best of friends, but...could you try to be friends with them? And the other Gryffindors too? Slytherins and Gryffindors traditionally haven't been very close, but why not? It seems silly to automatically not like someone because of the house he or she's in."

Draco turned from Hermione to the dance floor. Harry was being dragged across the floor by Ginny Weasley, Ron was doing the "Funky Hippogriff" with Lavender, and Neville was tripping over Parvati's shoes. Draco stifled a chuckle.

"Draco?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"Sure, I'll try."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, wrapping Draco in an embrace. "Now you can be friends with Harry, and Ron, and Neville, and...there's a slot open on the Gryffindor Quidditch team for a mascot! Why don't you try out?"

"Ahem...let's not go overboard, here, don't forget I'm a Slytherin," he said nervously. "I still can't be doing things that interfere with the Slytherin code of conduct, such as...wearing that moth-infested lion head and..."

Hermione was blissfully ignorant of Draco's rambling. "You will? That's great! I knew you would--I already told Madam Pince to sign you up for mascot!"

"W-w-what?" Draco stammered. "I couldn't--no way--why?--a lion?"

"It's so marvelous of you to do this, really--I always knew you were a nice guy underneath that Slytherin exterior." She leaned over and kissed him.

Draco blushed brighter than Ron's hair. Suddenly, making a fool out of himself in front of the entire school didn't seem so bad after all.  


* * *


End file.
